


Two Crooks and a Little Lady

by blissfulrain12



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Dad!Stanchez, M/M, this is going to be fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfulrain12/pseuds/blissfulrain12
Summary: Rick needs help and Stan needs money it should be a good arrangement. Though three years, unresolved feelings, and a two year old will make things interesting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to lieutenantruby of the slack chat for betaing.

Stan sat in his car tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He was parked in the last place he’d ever thought he’d be: in the driveway of a tidy looking house in the middle of the suburbs. The grass was green and precisely cut, the house was nearly identical to the homes on either side of it, and it even had white fencing for its backyard. Yeesh. If Stan was honest with himself, and he was almost never honest as a rule of survival, he was having some severe doubts about the arrangement. He was trying to convince himself that it was a good opportunity and not a setup. Although he needed a place to stay and Rick apparently needed his help the fact remained that he hadn’t seen Rick in years and their parting had been their worst one by far.

Rick had been a wild card floating in and out of his life with an odd consistency since they’d met that fateful day in a back alley. They’d both pissed off the same drug dealers and were in that alley to receive retribution. Together they’d made it out of that situation by the skin of their teeth and became partners in crime. They’d fed off of each other’s energies and between them ended up with the craziest of schemes. It had been great and then it had been terrible.  Rick had bailed on him in Columbia and Stan had taken a few things he probably shouldn’t have. He’d ended up in a Colombian prison and he was pretty sure Rick ended up owing quite a few dangerous people. Stan had gotten out of prison after a while but before he knew it three years had gone by with no sign of Rick.

Stan had tried not to think about it too much over the years. Sure he’d been angry at first but the anger faded pretty quickly and feelings of regret took over.  Rick had been one of the only friendly faces he'd still had in his life, even a little more than friendly sometimes. It had just been comfortable and Stan had messed it up like he'd done with all the good relationships in his life. So he took up the mantra of don't think about it and tried to bury any thoughts of Rick down in the same pit he'd put all of his uncomfortable memories.

Then yesterday Rick Sanchez reappeared almost like three years hadn't passed. Stan was living out of his car after once again fleeing a state with more than just the cops tailing him. He was exhausted and demoralized by the time he’d felt safe enough to relax his pace. By then he’d had days worth of just driving and thinking to deal with. Being alone with his thoughts for that long was never a good thing so he gathered what little money he had and went looking for a way to cope.  He eventually found a nondescript bar with cheap beer he could drown in. The bar was nothing special, being tucked away in the corner of a small town. It was dark, dingy, and only half full. Stan made his way to the stool at the end of the bar and began ordering his drinks.  He was on his fourth beer when Rick had slid into the chair next to him from seemingly out of nowhere.

“Th-there you are, Lee. Y-you’re a lot harder to track down than usual,” Rick had said with a wide grin. Stan had just barely managed not to fall out of his seat or punch Rick in the face. It was probably the nickname that prevented that last one. Rick was the only person who had ever called him Lee. Stan stared at him as he ordered a drink and settled into his seat. Stan couldn’t help it he was kind of stunned. They had both changed and in opposite directions. While Stan had hit his all time low Rick seemed to be more stable than Stan had ever seen him. Rick had traded in his usual punk style for a turtleneck, slacks, and was that a lab coat? He was also missing his piercings and was completely clean shaven. Rick Sanchez had cleaned up and Stan had a mullet.

Stan had become the most self conscious he’d been since asking out Carla McCorkle all those years ago. He was really feeling how worn his appearance was. He’d never had the best clothes but he’d always tried to look somewhat decent. His job as a conman demanded it. Shit, he’d really hit rock bottom. He quickly downed the rest of his beer in an attempt to wash away his thoughts and ordered another.

“Lee, I-I need your help. I need someone to watch my place. I’m working on something big and y-you’re the only person I can trust to look after things while I work. I’ll take care of everything else and y-you just have to look after this one small thing, Lee. Just this one tiny little thing. I’ll give you-you a cut but I need this handled Lee. Are you in?” Rick cut straight to the chase and Stan was transported back three years ago before Columbia, before Rico, when things had been looking up for him and Rick Sanchez was there with his promising schemes.

“Sure thing Rick.” He agreed without asking questions. It was almost reflexive how easily he fell back into going along with Rick. While none of Rick’s plans were ever safe they were always high risk and even higher reward. Not to mention they always had a bit of a thrill to them as well and Stan had never truly lost his adventurous side.  He could even feel his mood lifting at the prospect. Besides it wasn’t like he had other options anyway.

Rick grinned and relaxed ordering them both a round of the good stuff. They moved from the counter to a table and it was like no time had passed. They spent the rest of the night drinking, reminiscing, and catching up a bit. There were somethings that they both avoided talking about like Columbia and Rick kept things a bit vague about the last few years but otherwise it was good. Stan could understand after all he was keeping a lot of the details about the past three years to himself as well. They were really getting on a roll about the biker gang they’d once ran with when Rick looked at his watch with a curse.

“G-gotta go Lee. Show up tomorrow would ya. H-here.” With that Rick handed Stan the directions to his place and got up from his seat. With a wave Rick walked out of the bar and Stan stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. The place was hours away. Stan raised an eyebrow at that but quickly let it go. Rick often defied explanation and he really didn’t need one. Stan paid his tab, which took a large chunk of his remaining money, and left to find a relatively safe place to park for the night.

So the next day Stan woke up used the last of his money to put gas in his tank and a bit of food in his stomach and started driving. With nothing but time and a slight hangover Stan started thinking and when he started thinking he started doubting. How did Rick find him after all this time? Was Rick holding a grudge? Was he being led into a trap of some kind? It wouldn’t be the first time someone Stan had used to run with turned on him. He still woke up sometimes with the taste of tape in his mouth because of it. The longer he drove the more his doubts climbed.

 Several hours later he found himself parked in front of a house in what could only be described as a suburb. What was Rick doing here? It made Stan more nervous. Suburbs were full of nosy neighbors and responsive cops. He’d stick out like a sore thumb with his ratty jacket and stained jeans. Between his surroundings and hours of second guessing his sudden reconnection with Rick, Stan was a wreck. He wiped his sweating palms on his jeans and asked himself if he was really going to do this. A quick check of his remaining funds, which was nothing, decided it. He didn’t really have a choice. He was going to have to risk it and trust Rick Sanchez. With a deep breath to psych himself up Stan got out of his car and made his way to the front of the house. It was so neat and proper it even had potted plants and a welcome mat on the front step. Did Rick  _ chaos in human form _ Sanchez really live here?  He rang the bell before he lost his nerve.

Instead of the front door opening Stan heard the garage door start to slide up. He made it around just in time to see the garage door finish rising up only half way. He bent down to look under it to see Rick doing the same on the other side.

“C-come on in Lee,” Rick beckoned backing up to make room. Stan ducked inside to find himself in what could only be described as a mad scientist’s lab that he was sure would have made any sci fi nerd’s head explode. “Welcome to my humble abode, Lee.” Rick swept his arm out indicating everything around them. “I’m doing big th-things here Lee and you’re going to help me d-do it.”

“What do you need me to do?” Stan asked looking around his nerves disappearing. He was used to Rick’s odd experiments. Of course Rick had never had an operation of this size but it reminded him of so many set ups he’d helped Rick run that it actually brought a smile to Stan’s face. Memories of waking up to Rick bustling around their motel room manipulating various improvised workstations flooded to the surface of his mind.

_ Stan opened his eyes to see that the other side of the bed was empty. Sitting up and looking around the room made him realize his missing bedmate had been very busy while he was asleep. The other bed in the room was covered in all sorts of machines, tools, and junk. The small desk was now a small chem lab and it was in front of this that Rick was standing. In nothing but his boxers with a joint of his own special recipe between his lips Rick sang to himself as he worked. Stan sat back listening and watching the slight sway of his hips. He’d give Rick a minute more of working before he went over and gave him a proper good morning.    _

“I need you to take care of something im-important so I can concentrate on the stuff going on in here. F-follow me.” Rick’s voice brought Stan back to the present. He was beckoning Stan into the house proper. Stan followed Rick through a hallway and passed a kitchen. Stan couldn’t help but notice that nothing about the house seemed to match Rick at all. With it’s standard inoffensive paintings on the walls and untampered with kitchen appliances Stan doubted Rick had anything to do with the decor.

The hallway finally opened into the living room and Stan froze at the sight in front of him. Penned into the living room surrounded by toys was a little girl who immediately ran over to where Rick stood and held up her arms to be picked up while repeating the word ‘daddy’ over and over again. Rick reached down and lifted her over the play pen’s walls and into his arms before turning towards Stan. “T-this is my daughter, Beth. She’s what I need you to look after.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying out a multichapter fic. Wish me luck!


End file.
